see what you hear.com

By Stephen Boylan

             How often should you see a singer or band perform on one tour? If the answer is not more than once, I’m certainly in trouble this year. While I’m looking forward to revisiting Antony and the Johnsons and Sigur Rós later in the year, the prospect of seeing Sufjan Stevens in Dublin after having seen quite a poor set in Toronto in September, left me cold. Stevens’ last visit to Dublin was a small-scale affair with an audience of just 100 people in the Bank of Ireland Arts Centre, Dame Street. The release of his latest album “Come On Feel The Illinoise!” has, however, introduced the singer-songwriter to a much-wider audience and this time, for better or for worse, the man from Michigan played to a packed house in The Village on Camden Street.

Accompanied, as in Toronto, by his Illinoisemakers, the band took to the stage in full cheerleading regalia and ploughed through songs taken mostly from the new album. For the veteran fans in the audience, they were sated with a banjo-only rendition of “My Sister” from his spiritual and largely-ignored “Seven Swans” album. Although some of the dance routines remained from the original gig, much of the Americana had been, as I’d hoped, toned down. The focus seemed to be much more on the music and his choice of songs was much more suited to the venue than previously. Stevens really hit his stride when he performed alone, a perfect example being the haunting “John Wayne Gacy Jr.” which was a welcome addition to the set list, adding some substance and depth to the evening.

This gig indeed appeared to be more polished, while the band, as Stevens himself, seemed to relish bringing the set to a foreign audience. If they were in any doubt as to how the crowd were taking the material, the clamour for an encore of “Chicago” and their (very) enthusiastic participation in the “Jacksonville” cheer certainly would have brushed any worries aside.

Despite this, the entire gig was almost (again) brought to its knees by a sub-par venue. The Village has now consistently shown how ill-adapted it is to hosting small, intimate gigs. It appears that the sound system in general seems determined to get in the way of a top class concert. Even more frustratingly, the sale of alcohol seems to take the highest priority. In stark contrast to Dublin’s Vicar Street which closes the bar during gigs even though it’s actually outside the venue itself, The Village is quite content to keep the cash tills ringing (literally) and to keep the clanking collection of beer glasses in full flow, even when an artist is in the middle of performing a quiet number from the set list. The Village manages to (and will undoubtedly continue to) attract rising stars of world-class quality, but if they refuse to respect the musicians they invite to their venue, I suspect the public will begin to stay away.

Popularity: 1% [?]

            Dr. Dog make Arcade Fire feel like the altogether wholesome marriage between a picture-perfect jock and head-cheerleader, “Funeral” being the clean-cut, picket-fenced product of their consummation. In comparison, “Easybeat” is the long-haired deadbeat who’s more than happy to leave the world of high-school reunions behind. That is to say, Dr. Dog sound like they know no one’s ever going to hear their songs…and they don’t care.

The album starts off with a sound like that of “Abbey Road” (Toby Leaman in particular sounds like he’s the perfect bass player for Lennon & McCartney-type blues excursions), but as one soon sees, “Easybeat” is filled with more familiar turns that the spiral patterns on a stretch of forgotten 70s carpet. In fact, one could argue that musically, there’s not a single original element to be found on the album…but yet that’s the most wonderful thing about it. Dr. Dog take sounds that are so over-used they’ve long since curdled and make something endearingly original with it.

Of course, things are kept considerably lo-fi throughout, but there’s a party goin’ on here – a dirty, rugged attractiveness and a tangible sense of team spirit that’s hard not to find appealing. There’s a looseness to songs like “The Pretender,” “OhNo,” and “Easybeat” that somehow always pulls things together enough to flirt with the notion of anthemic genius. Tracks like “Say Something” and “Wake Up,” on the other hand, will have you following their trail until the path has changed unrecognisably…the destination becoming something unforeseeably brilliant.

The cascading doo-wop harmonies and Scott McMicken’s wavering (sometimes faltering) bathroom-vocals become elements that will eventually have their way with you. To put it simply, this album is a grower; it’ll all arrive on your door like some strange figure that turns up unannounced and undemanding, only to have you offering up your couch for life within minutes. The final moments of the album finish things up wonderfully with what sounds like a campfire sing-along, screaming: “Wake up, wake UP…wake uuuuppp! We are only, part of a dream. Oh, the things in your heart, like the things in your head, are only what they seem.” In an era of creative saturation, we need more records like “Easybeat,” not only because it proves that there is a quality of life to be found in aesthetic recycling, but just simply because they’re damn good.

Artist / Group:
Dr. Dog
Album:
Easybeat
Label:
Rough Trade
Released:
3rd October 2005

Popularity: unranked [?]

1. Kaleidoscope – Chocolate Whale
2. Broadcast – Tender Buttons
3. Viva Voce – Lesson No. 1
4. David Eugene Edwards – Nobody ‘Cept You
5. Tremulous Monk – Tea Hippy
6. Devendra Banhart – At the Hop / Suitcase (Live version)
7. Dr. John – Walk On Guilded Splinters
8. Neil Young – Ride My Llama
9. Pugh Rogefeldt – Love, Love, Love
10. Tim Buckley – Look at the Fool
11. Vetiver – You May Be Blue (Live)
12. Caribou – Brumheller
13.Caribou – Pelican Narrows
14. Curtis Mayfield – Gimme Your Love
15. Phil Ochs – Changes
16. The Incredible String Band – Very Cellular Song (edit – 3:04)

Popularity: 5% [?]

            For all his former glories, Neil Young nearly lost me with “Greendale.” I remember sitting in the front rows of Vicar St. when he was debuting the material, looking over my shoulders in disbelief, wondering if anyone else felt that we were being put on. So while all the talk of “Prairie Wind” being a return to his “Harvest” days may be jumping the gun somewhat, it certainly is a stabilising return to form.

The album starts off strongly; though the substance is somewhat familiar, the effective simplicity of tracks such as “The Painter” are what Neil Young does best. “No Wonder,” a meditation on the climate around 9/11, can be praised for the same qualities, but also marks the introduction of one of Prairie Wind’s most notables features. This is where we’re given the first taste of the layering of elements that are wrapped around the songs from here on out: gospel choirs, church organs, horns, and even a string section are used on a rotating basis.

Tracks such as “Far from Home,” “It’s a Dream,” “Prairie Wind,” and “He Was the King” (a light hearted tribute to Elvis) are loaded with this kind of pomp, and strangely enough, it’s difficult to tell whether these songs would float or sink without them. The female backing in the title track in particular sounds quite soulless, and by the song’s end (an unnecessary seven and a half minutes) it has emptied itself of all significance.

To counterpoint all this, perhaps, there’s plenty of dirty acoustic riffage to keep things flowing nicely. The return of guitarist (and co-producer) Ben Keith to the fold means there are some striking similarities to “Harvest Moon” – arguably Young’s last release of genuine class. If the elderly, autumnal romantics to “Falling Off the Face of the Earth” and “Here for You” don’t underline the comparison for you, the recycling of the riff from the title track on “This Old Guitar,” certainly will (the melody of “World on a String” is also rehashed earlier on in the album).

Ultimately, a sepia-toned album filled with nostalgia and the recurring image of prairie wind (you will swear you’ve heard him sing lines such as “Bury me out on the prairie Where the buffalo used to roam” before) will come as absolutely no surprise to those with any previous knowledge of Neil Young. The good news is that if you’re a dedicated admirer of the song-writer’s trademark touches, you’ll certainly be pleased to know he’s still capable of producing something of note. Although this may indeed be his best album it years, it serves as more of a redeeming move rather than a latter-day magnum opus.

Artist / Group:
Neil Young
Album:
Prairie Wind
Label:
Reprise
Released:
27th September 2005

Popularity: 1% [?]

It was one of those nights: you turn up on time, not quite knowing what to expect…you’ve got a rough idea of what it might entail, but the evening won’t go to ruins should it not turn out that way. With a sample-driven album like “The Milk of Human Kindness,” one might envision a DJ taking the route of a laptop performance, or even blending the original elements together “live” from vinyl. The sight of two drum kits to either side of what is already a cramped stage, however, suggested something else entirely.

            Beginning with the Neu!-based rhythm of “Barnowl,” Ryan Smith powered ahead as if he were Michael Rother himself, unblinking as he proceeded to be sandwiched in between two synchronised explosions of percussion. My first impression was that this all sounded a little too good to be true…Obviously, samples would be required at various points throughout the night, logistics alone would tell you that much. So when I saw two sets of arms flailing incredibly, yet simultaneously making such a precise, impressive racket, I immediately suspected that the foul hand of miming might be at play.

            I strained my eyes, leaned forward, my heart wanting to give them the benefit of the doubt, my ears inclining toward scepticism…but, to my relief, everything was indeed on the level. While Dan Snaith juggled the call of his extraneous musical responsibilities superbly, frequently switching from drums to keyboards, vocals, and even a melodica, from the outset it was his thundering tandem-act with drummer Peter Mitton that sparked much of the magic.

            The songs from their latest release were reshaped, resized, and reshuffled, completely changing my opinion of the album. The songs were played with enough urgency and presence that, if one was previously unfamiliar with their work, you’d assume they belonged to some wonderful recorded substance where it was all even more acutely contained. A clear standout on “The Milk of Human Kindness,” “Bees” was now simply just another live gem, indistinguishable in terms of quality from the rest. In fact, the album as a whole proceeded to be shed as if it was merely a handy reference point, its sampled, cut-and-paste cohesion paling in the face of such a live reproduction, gladly lost in translation.

            The best kinds of gigs are those that not only strike you with pleasant degree of surprise, but make you re-think the recorded material as well. Now when I listen back to “The Milk of Human Kindness,” I know that those intense bouts of drums are most likely real, not just expertly picked from dusty vaults of vinyl a la Four Tet’s Kieran Hebden.
Unsurprisingly, each and every number was unequivocally hailed and treated to a warm, vibrant reception. And thanks to the psychedelic overhead animations of Dublin’s own Delicious Nine, which was synched perfectly to the music every step of the way, the memory each of those individual segments will linger on that little bit more vividly.

Popularity: 1% [?]